My doctor had asked me during my regular checkup if there was something I felt was worth living for. A simple question, one that many could answer with ease upon quick analysis of one's own life, but this was an impossibility to me. The history of the incalculable amount of times I had attempted to destroy myself through drink and drug overwhelmed me while my heart sank and my brain burned. I sat for what felt like an hour over the phone, a video call from home as a safety measure during these trying times. I contemplated as hard as I could, begged with myself internally to find some response, some point, but there was only an empty echo within. An answer couldn't be found, much as a light cannot be found in a place with no reflection or energy, nor a dry place in the deepest depths of the sea. I uttered "no."
